Trust Me, Love Me, Maybe Not
by suspensegirl
Summary: CB 3-part fic, based entirely on 3x06 spoilers. He was disgusted, felt betrayed, and she made sure she was out of the room before his flashing, hate-filled eyes found hers from across the room. Ch.3 up
1. Somewhat Misleading

A/N: Okay, so my next update was going to be for _Queen Bee for a Reason_, I swear, but the 3x06 promo absolutely killed me, and the extended promo killed me even more. I had to write something to get me through this CB issue that—from what I've heard—is going to cause quite a conflict, lasting up through 3x07 (at least part way). This 3-part fic (unless I randomly make it last longer, but I'm really going to try not to *will _**NOT**_ give in to the temptation of SSS*) is based entirely on spoilers, except for my own little ideas, which will be obvious, I should think. _Queen Bee for a Reason_ will be updated as soon as I've finished this, unless, like I said, I continue it longer than 3 parts, then it will take longer. ;p _Please,_ please review though. I've been getting less and less of those as the days go on and it's not very encouraging. Now, on to chapter 1. =)

***Forewarning:** This is going to be mostly a _very_ angsty fic. I blame my depressive CB worries for this. If it annoys you, I'm sorry, but just think how _hard_ it is for _me_ to _write_ it then. And in case you doubt, there _will_ be a happy ending. In my fics—unless I randomly do a sad one-shot—there always are.

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**Ch.1—Somewhat Misleading**

It seemed simple enough, and had been planned out to perfection.

The Dean was gay, and Chuck was always up for a challenge.

The scenario was near perfect.

There was only one problem: Chuck thought it was a game.

And it wasn't.

_ …not from his standpoint._

It had been torture to watch her boyfriend flirt with the Dean from across the room. Sure, she needed the distraction, the extra attention to the man so she could be assured that granted speech that would give her all the more access to the popular public.

It didn't mean she enjoyed watching her boyfriend kiss another guy. And she was sure—by this point, at least—he didn't enjoy it either. It showed all over his features when Blair didn't come in to stop the kissing transactions. He was disgusted, felt betrayed, and she made sure she was out of the room before his flashing, hate-filled eyes found hers from across the room.

He pushed the man off of him, and spat. It was anything but _subtle_.

"I'm sorry for the confusion," his eyebrows narrowed, as did the Dean's. "I'm straight."

The man gaped.

"And I have a girlfriend."

His eyes widened. "I—uh, wow, I'm sorry," he scooted back a little.

Chuck sighed, running a hand through his own hair, eager to get the disgustingly tingly 'gay' feel still lingering on his fingertips. He stood to his feet, and cursed inwardly to himself when the Dean stood with him.

"You came on to me though," the man clarified, just to be sure he hadn't made a complete fool of himself and hit on a man he thought was gay and was actually straight.

Chuck nodded knowingly. "Yes, I'm aware. It was a tremendous mistake." His eyes widened as he glanced to the floor, eager to get away from this painfully awkward conversation and on to verbally butchering his girlfriend, who he was sure had conveniently escaped just when he realized her devious plan. After all, it was _highly unlikely_ that she just 'forgot' to stop the transaction before it took place.

The man cleared his throat, seeming to be a little defensive. "I see then. Well, I won't keep you," he gestured Chuck away with his hand.

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have apologized—or come close—and maybe even felt bad for treating this stranger so rudely when it really had nothing to do with him at all. But, he was furious with Blair. He was quite sure now that she was trying to impress this man for some bizarre reason. For school…he could think of no other reason. But she should have told him. She shouldn't have used him like a piece in her chess game. Chuck Bass does not get used, not even by Blair Waldorf. The two manipulate others better than any other in the game, but it's war when they turn on each other.

He fumed. "Yes…" Chuck's voice dropped, and he wasn't even acknowledging the man anymore, who thanks to his own good sense had left the troubled eighteen-year-old to his burning thoughts. From across the room he spotted a flier, a list, and then suddenly he noticed how nearly everyone in the room had a copy of the bright yellow sheet marked in bold black letters.

And how _Blair_ was handing out those beaming sunny slips of paper. Their eyes met for a moment and then he saw how her expression switched almost instantly from cheery to panicked. She couldn't have left the room fast enough, and his feet were frozen in place. He couldn't have been _madder_ at her, but he didn't know quite yet what he was going to say, or even really what was going on. So, he let her go, and he continued to scan the room for some sort of flaw to her almost perfectly displayed corruption…_both of the student body and himself_.

He ripped one of the sheets from a student clearly quite involved with the device, but once that nerdy freshman saw the boiling fumes exploding all over Chuck's face, he did not even attempt to ask for it back. Instead he made to walk out of the room naturally or casually or the like. Chuck did not even watch him for the strained amusement it would have offered at his horrible acting skills.

He zoned in on the sheet.

It spoke heavily of _Blair Waldorf_…and some sort of significant student speech that was coming up. That alone confused him. He knew Blair very well, and if she was already set to do the speech, then there would be no cause to _use him_ for anything, unless it was regarding something else entirely. That seemed too far from the truth to even be contemplated.

"I thought Vanessa Abrams was doing the speech," he heard a confused girl remark, and his eyes widened. He strode over to the girl immediately, and turned her away from the mass of geeky girls she was talking to.

"How? How'd you know Vanessa was doing it?" He demanded, and a part of her looked frightened, but she just tossed her long hair across her shoulder and answered him.

"It's on the schedule," she pointed across the room to a large bulletin board. "The sheet in the middle lists the important speeches of the year. The next one says: _VANESSA ABRAMS_. It has _all_ week." She was cocky and confused simultaneously. He didn't understand, though he himself had been in the exact same position before, if not currently. He didn't bother with it though. He just searched her eyes for any sign of lying and when he saw none, he turned away and walked to the board. All else was blind to him but that over-sized speech schedule. Skimming the sheet had been hardly the most difficult task he'd set out to do. It was the biggest piece of paper on the board, so finding it took merely seconds, and sure enough **VANESSA ABRAMS** was written in big, bold letters under the title of the speech to be taking place in the following week, _the next current speech_. Though now the girl's name was crossed off with a big, black **X**.

Beside it was written: **BLAIR WALDORF**.

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"Vanessa? Hey, this is—"

"Chuck?" the confused girl asked, aghast.

"Yes, I was wondering if you could—"

"Isn't it dangerous for you to be talking to me? What's Blair gonna think?" she teased. He sighed, and rolled his eyes. That was the last thing he was worried about at that particular moment. And _so what_ if she was petrified at the thought. After what she did, she deserved it.

"You're supposed to be giving a speech at NYU next week, right?" he asked, refusing to get sucked into her pathetic attempts at jealous scheming.

Vanessa's eyebrows furrowed. She didn't even want to know how he knew that. "Yeah, how'd you—"

"—what does the Dean look like?" he asked, trying desperately to keep the panic out of his voice. Her breath caught, and he knew that somehow he hadn't been able to manage it as perfectly as he would've liked.

She gulped. "He's got short, brown hair. Why?"

He sighed, closing his eyes in frustration. "What color was his shirt today?" he asked, voice deathly quiet.

"Chuck, I don't know, what kind of question—"

"Vanessa."

And it was the way he said it. That way that forced her to remember, to place some kind of thought pattern on what color he had been wearing when he passed through the courtyard earlier that morning. She sighed. "I think it was…white?" she offered, not entirely sure of the suggestion, but not thinking it could be anything else either.

"You're positive." He stated.

"Chuck, I don't know what half of this is about, but white is the closest I'm ever going to get to 100%"

He nodded, not really caring that she couldn't see him.

"What's all this about?"

Silence.

"Chuck?"

He sighed again. "Is he gay?" he asked tentatively, fearing he already knew the answer to the question.

Now she was officially weirded out. This had to be one of the most bizarre conversations she had ever had with Chuck Bass. If this was what came of one-night stands, she was sure never to do _that_ again.

"Chuck," she said.

But he said nothing, and she knew he was expecting something significant of her. She shook her head, wondering if this was a discussion she should make sure to record or erase from her memory. She gulped.

"I think so…" she said, hesitantly, suddenly recalling a conversation she had had earlier in the week regarding that very information. She thought it best not to bring up the situation though. It was clear all Chuck wanted was answers, and not the means of how they were retrieved.

"You think so…" he repeated. His voice was almost silent and it sounded dangerous.

"Chuck?" she asked, worry consuming her when she couldn't even hear his breath reverberating over the phone. One minute. Two. Three.

"Chuck?" she was beyond concerned now.

**CLICK.**

**DIAL TONE.**

_Gone_.

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A/N: Okay, that is my beginning. Please review. The next couple chapters will be insanely longer and much more angsty. This chapter was kind of just setting up the coming disaster. *gulp* …as I see how it might happen in the show. And in case you were curious, I will probably make the angst insanely bad in this fic (as in…depressing, not poorly written xD), just so when they do make up it'll restore everything and hopefully my fic will be exaggerating things way worse than the episodes actually show. *sigh* With that info displayed, I thought I might also inform you that I am going to have this fic up and completed before Monday. I need to have this to go through in case it gets really bad. *gulp* REVIEW!! =D


	2. Waterworks

A/N: I am _determined_ to get this done tonight. Prepare yourself for angst. *gulp* *hopes self doesn't die in the process of writing this*

*in awe that author's note was so short XD*

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**Ch.2—Waterworks**

He cleared his throat loud enough so that she could hear, and yet completely subtle to the rest of the individuals in the adjoining room. She spun to face him and pure panic covered what was absolute confidence all over her face. She tried to avoid his gaze in the following seconds, but he strode to her and grabbed a hold of her arm, pulling her into the next room.

"Chu—" she giggled fakely to those who might have seen the strange, drama-induced transaction.

"Blair, I need to speak with you," he said forcefully. She knew then any denial or resistance would be out of the question.

She gulped, scared out of her mind and beginning to sweat when he closed and locked the door behind him. The thought of abuse didn't even attempt to enter her thoughts, but she was terrified nonetheless. Forcing herself to think he would be amused by the situation just didn't make sense with the way he had reacted. His glare from across the room had hardly been friendly.

When he turned around and faced her, he walked slowly to where she was and waited. The silence was unbearable for her, and almost more torturous than watching him kiss the dean, or seeing that angry look of his directed at her.

"I can explain—"

"_Can_ you?" he asked, the anger rising in his voice. Her eyes stayed pinned to his. "Can you explain how or _why_ you didn't inform me of the real plans behind your designated activities of this evening?" He raised his eyebrows at her momentarily.

Her lips parted.

"You _used_ me, Blair."

She blinked, fearing if she looked away he would shun her, and if she continued to force her gaze upon him fully that his stare alone would break her.

He took a step closer to her.

"You knew I would take up the challenge, and so used that well-known piece of information to carry out your plan." He sighed. "I don't know what you were planning, and I don't care."

She remained motionless.

"When I jumped on board for this relationship thing, I expected to trust me. I expected you to trust me the way I had and have learned to trust you all year. I will forever be grateful for what you did for me on that rooftop at Victrola."

Her eyes watered, and she tried to blink back the tears. Now was hardly the time to cry, but she never wanted to relive that awful memory again. Regardless if she had brought him back from the edge or not.

"But that doesn't excuse what you did tonight."

She wanted to speak, to defend herself, to _prove_ what she did tonight was justified. But she couldn't find it in herself to discover the answers. She _couldn't_ defend herself, _couldn't_ justify what she had done. Because…it _wasn't_ justifiable. Nothing about tonight was right, or good. It had been a plan she concocted and knew would work brilliantly, but what she hadn't taken into consideration was the fact that together her and Chuck work better than she ever could alone. Now she had hurt both of them, and there was no doubt within her mind that her initial goal would even succeed at this point. Not that she was concerned with that ridiculous anymore. All she really had to worry about was what was right in front of her.

_And showing emotion._

Goodness knows what that would do, how that would enrage him. Her supple glossy lips thinned and pursed against each other. She wanted to speak, to _fix_ this. But she had no excuse other than her untimely selfishness, and _that_ confession would do anything but fix the situation. If anything it would make it all worse.

"I would do almost anything for you, Blair Waldorf, and I think you know that. I _hope_ you know that, otherwise I'm seriously worried about the state our relationship has fallen into."

She blinked again, to keep the tears from falling out of her eyes. What was he saying? Was their relationship over? _Was everything she worked so hard for…to get him…to __**keep**__ him…was it all over because of this __**stupid**__ mistake? _Her eyes widened_._

Now, she regretted it even _more_, and the swallow struggling to make its way down her throat made it even harder to keep those tears from falling. His eyebrows narrowed. In part from what she had done, and partly because of her absolute silence practically from the moment they had entered the room and he had locked the door. He searched her eyes for some sort of answer, some sort of key as to where her mind was heading, where it was currently placed. He saw the tears resting in their frozen spheres, and knew she felt guilty about everything that had happened. He figured as much. But he needed more, and it seemed she had nothing to give. She clearly had no idea on what to say. Either that or she did not think he deserved explanation, which was quite obviously crazy. But her silence did not excuse her from this apparent one-sided conversation. Just as whatever cause she had for doing what she did him tonight would not excuse his immediate forgiveness, if his forgiveness at all. The act alone did not only humiliate him completely, but it also showed all too well her lack of trust in him.

"You let me kiss a _guy_, unknowingly. You didn't even _consider_ telling me what your plans were in the process of this _horrendous_ act. You _lied_ to me. It wasn't _our_ game from the summer. It was _your_ game and I was the chief pawn in a move you thought would be the most conniving and brilliant scheme to claim your prize. Instead working with me as a team, you put yourself above me and lowered me to the place we so often give a Humphrey or an Abrams. It is more obvious to me than it has ever been. Not that I even contemplated it before this. You don't trust me," he finished breathlessly.

"I _do_ trust you," she insisted, and he was glad that she had suddenly decided to give _some_ sort of vocal, verbal eruption…but it was hardly the input he needed. She fought hard to keep the tears within her eyes. The addition of speaking, however, put a hold on her self-restraint, and a single tear rolled down the side of her face. She was almost sniffling, but she forced herself not to. It did not appear to even matter though. Whatever insults he was throwing at her inside his mind he had decided not to voice, and for that she was grateful. At least _that_ she could cling to. He didn't even look like he cared that she was falling apart. He obviously was too upset to even consider what her ultimate guilt and regret was doing to her.

For a moment she even wondered if he regretted telling her he loved her on that warm spring afternoon a week after graduation. She _highly_ doubted he would even _think_ about saying it now. It would seem so far from the truth anyways. She might not even believe it.

"Please," he scoffed, looking at her in complete disbelief.

"_I do!"_

"What proof do you have? What cause would make me even think about believing you?"

She gaped, and after a moment slammed her mouth shut. _What could she tell him, really?_ She didn't want to lose him, but…_what could she say?_ Sorry seemed like a lie, even if it _was_ true.

He shook his head at her returned silence and turned away from her. There was nothing more he could say that she hadn't already heard since the entered the room, maybe even on repeat. He turned for the door, and when he was almost there she went after to him.

"Chuck—wait!"

He stopped for her. It seemed he would always stop for her. After a moment, he turned back around and faced her. And waited.

But she said nothing.

She didn't want him to go; she didn't want to leave like this. She didn't know what him leaving like this would mean for them. She didn't know anything about what any of this meant. She only knew how badly she wanted to erase what had happened, and realize how serious the consequences would be in her impossible insistence for popularity.

But she couldn't take back time.

And she didn't know what to say.

She just…_didn't want him to go._

"Where are you going?" she asked, desperate to know, willing to do anything he asked of her. She just wanted to be with him. It felt like the only thing that would help stitch them back together.

"Away."

The thought occurred to her that he might be leaving the country because of all this, and she couldn't believe he would go so far, but knowing his track record it wasn't exactly unlikely. She gulped.

"Let me come with you," she took a step towards him.

"No," he put up a hand to stop her ascent and she took a few steps backward.

"I need to go alone, for awhile."

She didn't move, was scared to again, was going out of her mind with grief, and panicking to an unhealthy degree. Yet still she wanted him to say more, wanted him to explain _why_ he had to leave, as if the answer wasn't already obvious. She _needed_ to hear it, even if it was painful and even if she was the most undeserving creature in the world for what she had done.

It seemed he understood.

He sighed.

"Without _you_."

And he turned again, unlocked the door, stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him. Blair Waldorf slunk to the floor, of which she now pinned her eyes to. They released her tears. The strength within them had finally worn out.

…………………………………………………………………

"I wish you would have called me earlier," Serena said, sympathy etched all over her face. She handed the sniffling brunette a tissue from the Kleenex box between them. It seemed the sobbing beauty could not find anything but her own tears clear in the morning light.

She was still dressed in her soft, silk pajamas, and after trying her best to get through the night on her own, the first activity she engaged in on waking was calling her best friend and demanding she come over. When Serena asked which location she was currently residing in, the soft sigh followed by a mumbled _'the penthouse'_ told her where to go. She should have realized that being in a place as **uncomely** as NYU would hardly be comforting at a time like this.

"I had to try and fend for myself at least a little bit, S," she dabbed her eyes with the tissue some more, forgetting for a moment that it was the same one she had used for her nose. Serena grimaced, and offered another clean tissue instead of spoken words. "Thanks," she said, softly.

The blonde nodded. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Blair sighed.

"Everything this time," she said, tucking one of the stray brown strands behind her best friend's ear.

"I told you everything, S. I don't know what else there is to tell." She shrugged casually, avoiding her friend's gaze and grabbing for another tissue. Serena grabbed hold of her hand before she could gather the soft material to her face and their piercing gazes met. "S, give me the tissue." She spoke slowly, trying very hard to rip her hand away…to no avail.

"Tell me what happened, then!"

"I told you!" she shrieked.

Serena sighed, releasing Blair's hand and shaking her head. She brought up her own hand to her forehead, holding the aching creases in her palm. "B, you told me you did something and he didn't like it and he left and then I came over to make you feel better, and you told me you'd tell me more details." Her eyes snapped back to the brunette, who was now avoiding her gaze. "That was a requisite for me coming over."

Blair finally looked back to her. She scoffed. "Well, if I knew there would be requisites I wouldn't have called in the first place."

Serena shook her head miserably, leaning back against the support of the couch.

"_B_…"

Finally, the brunette looked at her and her face softened. She looked so vulnerable suddenly and Serena almost regretted asking this of her. She looked so…broken.

She gulped.

"It'll make you feel better," Serena encouraged.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "Ok."

Serena's eyes brightened and she tried not to show her excitement, though sat up just a little straighter all the same.

"I may have…" she stretched her arms in front of her awkwardly, and the girl before her feared for the worst. "…manipulated Chuck into making out with the gay dean of NYU in order to suck-up to him, the end result probably allowing me to present the next big speech at the…school?"

Serena was gaping when Blair finally looked back up at her, and honestly the brunette was convinced she was going to leave. Chuck was furious the night before and now her best friend was going to leave too. She sighed inwardly. This situation could not get any worse.

"B…" she was nearly shuddering as she spoke.

The young Waldorf gulped, listening as best as she could, and trying to not focus more on the awful things spoken to her in her mind.

"…Chuck can get pretty kinky…" she swallowed hard, almost in disbelief that she was saying these known facts out loud. "…but that's disgusting, and if he even agrees," she sighed, "I think you're in serious trouble."

Now Blair slunk back into the couch. "Gee, thanks for telling me what I already know, S." She rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Serena focused back in on her friend and the dilemma she had called her there for. "This isn't unfixable." Those deep brown eyes perked up at that, and focused on the blonde's every word. "What was the last thing he said when he left?" She looked hopeful and Blair tried to draw on that, but her face fell nonetheless.

She sighed. "He said he needed some time…alone…without me."

Serena's face fell along with her best friend's. "Those were his _exact_ words?" she cringed.

Blair gulped, nodding, and hardly taking notice when her friend slumped back into the couch again and exhaled loudly. Serena sat up again, and leaned forward—almost into her best friend—seemingly determined about what she was about to say.

"You can't give up, B." Their gazes caught again. "If he said he needs to be alone, then just give him a few days." She was smiling now, and Blair was disgusted by it. She stood up suddenly, being unable to handle her happiness. It wasn't as if _she_ was in the situation, after all.

"No, you don't understand, Serena! He yelled at me about how I don't trust him and how I should've told him everything beforehand, and I know I should have and I totally regret it, but what am I supposed to do? Just say sorry?!" she crumbled onto the carpet, and Serena's heart ached for her. She had been blown away when the brunette stood to her feet and started pacing. _So much for the hopeful demeanor she had tried to pass on…_

"B, this isn't the end of the world." She rubbed her hand in soft circles across her back and shoulders. Blair's head snapped up and glared at the blonde, who somehow managed to avoid those blazing brown fires. "I'm _serious_. He isn't breaking up with you. This is just your first big fight as a couple. We all experience them, and unless we're extremely unreasonable and immature…we all get through them."

She sighed, falling back from her perch on her knees to flat on her rear end. "I guess…" she brushed a hand through her hair, trying to erase the tears and all those horrible accusations and actions and feelings. "But are we immature and unreasonable?!" she suddenly wondered. The thought did not seem impossible.

Now Serena sighed. "A year ago…I would've said yes, definitely."

Blair's eyes widened.

"But now…? No, definitely not."

She was unconvinced.

"You've both grown up so much in this last year. Maybe all he _does_ need is an apology."

She scoffed. "_Please_. This is _Chuck Bass_ we're talking about."

Serena raised her eyebrows. "I'm aware." She cleared her throat, turning Blair to face her. "Listen, how about you just take his words for what they are."

She looked puzzled.

"Wait a few days and then see where he stands."

She still seemed frustrated, but gave a small nod in response. Serena leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"You'll be alright."

"Yeah…" she said lamely, accepting the hug Serena so eagerly now gave. Her thoughts contradicted her though.

Somehow she doubted she'd be 'alright'. Be it now, or a few days from now…she was going to remain emotionally _miserable_.

………………………………………………………………………………

_She giggled, growing more and more enamored by his touch along the silky, smooth curve of her back. He was so tangible, so touchable, and he was all hers. Finally._

_"Chuck," she whispered, pulling him to her. He caught her off guard by kissing her, but she didn't mind in the least. In fact, she wrapped her leg around him and pulled herself closer._

_"Mmm, Waldorf, are you…frisking me?" He quirked an eyebrow when she pulled away ever so slightly and smirked playfully up at him._

_"What if I am?" she quipped. "Are you going to complain?"_

_His eyes darkened at the question, and he pressed his forehead against hers gently. "I think you know the answer to that question."_

_Her little pink tongue slipped out from between her lips and outlined the form of his lips, which parted almost the instant her soft moisture melted on his mouth. A twisting passion play between their lips and tongue drew her to cling to him tighter, and it sent shivers down her spine when his fingers ever so carefully found their way up her skirt and beneath the near see-through shirt she had adorned that day. Just for him._

_"Chuck," she moaned, and he had to keep himself from flat-out smiling. He had only been dating Blair Waldorf for just over a month, and he honestly could not remember ever being happier than this._

_Suddenly her lips stopped moving and her tongue slipped out and buried itself back in her own mouth. His eyebrows furrowed and he pouted when she backed away ever so slightly from his face. _

_"What is it?" he asked, genuinely worried._

_"Would you ever leave me?" she asked. Her voice was so small, and he would have gaped or cracked a joke if he didn't know exactly where her fear lay. _

_"Blair—"_

_Her eyes were almost tear-filled as he spoke, and in that moment he regretted every moment of hurt he had caused her before. He swore to himself he would never do it again, not if he could help it._

_"No, never."_

_Her eyes lit up, ever so slightly. "Not for anything? You would always forgive me if I did something awful?" She was panicking, and he knew it, but he had to make her feel safe…just as Serena had said all those months earlier._

_"Always," he pressed his lips softly on her adorable little nose. _

_"Even if I cheated on you?"_

_He backed his face away from hers, his forehead creasing. "You wouldn't, and besides, when have you ever cheated on __**anyone**__?"_

_"Marcus," she stated neutrally, and he swore she shrugged her shoulder. He laughed shortly, thinking she was joking, but…she wasn't. She was completely serious. His jaw dropped a little and then softly closed._

_"I don't think he really counts, do you?" he muttered, beginning to kiss down her neck torturously. She shuddered enjoyably._

_"I __**still**__ dated him, even if it was just to make you jealous."_

_Chuck smirked at the reality of that fact. "May I just say that you succeeded in that endeavor?"_

_She smiled at his words. "Well, obviously."_

_He raised an eyebrow._

_"I always succeed in winning you over." She rubbed her nose playfully against his own and grabbed hold of his lips with her teeth._

_Chuck didn't have to acknowledge the truth in her statement. His moan was true enough._

Blair sighed.

She didn't know why she had been so worried just in the waking weeks of their blossoming relationships. It was only for a brief moment that she considered the possibility of him leaving her and why. But it had never happened, and she didn't doubt a moment after that.

Except for when Serena came back at the end of the summer, of course.

Her best friend had to be right.

Chuck wasn't going to break up with her…

_Was he?_

Every thought, every intention of the evening had been so misleading. She didn't blame him for being so pissed at her, but everything screamed _BREAK-UP_ to her. She was so scared, and such an _idiot_.

_"Why are we here?" he raised an eyebrow. The low-class gathering place of NYU students was hardly the place he wanted to spend his evening with Blair._

_She smirked. "Remember our game from the summer?"_

_He knew she couldn't resist it for long. They had had far too much fun during their little 'experiment'._

_"Mmm," he acknowledged. "What about it?"_

_She inclined her head towards the far side of the room. "I've got the perfect target."_

_Chuck raised his eyebrows and turned to where she was looking._

_"White shirt, short brown hair…"_

_He could see no one else with that description, and turned back to her in half skepticism, half shock. "She's a guy." As much as he wanted to avoid it, his voice spoke disgusted._

_Her smirk grew wider, and she leaned in close. "You still up for it?"_

_It took him only a moment to decide. This would be by far the most disgusting thing she had dared him to do, but he wasn't backing down…and the post-game sex was always well worth the wait._

_"What's his name?"_

She closed her eyes in agony.

She shouldn't have challenged him. She knew he would do it, if for nothing else…for her, and for his ego, his undeniably cocky self—it was one of the things she loved most about him.

And now she was paying for it.

She should have told him.

She should have planned something with him.

Together they could have blown Vanessa Abrams and the dean out of the water.

Now it was all over.

And she was sure—_if it wasn't already clear in his mind, it would be soon_—_they_ were over too.

It didn't matter what Serena said, or what she had been forcing her mind to think.

_She_ knew Chuck better than _anyone_. And she knew that look written all over his face. She had seen it a few times already, and it always meant the same thing.

_We're over, we're through. For good this time._

Sigh.

Sniffle.

Cry.

Sob.

_She was going to need some more Kleenex. _

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A/N: Omg. SO hard for me to write. ESPECIALLY that first scene. Omg. Almost tears….SO close. *gulp* Y'all better review. This was painful.


	3. Just a Trust Thing

A/N: Yes, as bizarre as it seems, I actually am updating this quickly. *wonders if this is actually bizarre, or if it's actually just in self's mind XD* *clears throat* This story is so angsty and so hard for me to write, but as depressing as this chapter begins, I guarantee it will resolve itself by the end. I just hope you all don't find this a crappy, rushed, unrealistic story by its completion. *gulp* With that said, please R & R, and let's hope this Monday's episode doesn't kill us.

*One last thing—this chapter will be more Chuck-centered in its POV. I love B to death, and am definitely slightly more biased with her than with Chuck (hence the exaggeration on how bad she must feel in the previous chapter ;p), but…*shrugs* idk. I have just decided this. XD Enjoy!

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**Ch.3—Just a Trust Thing**

He couldn't believe she actually _hadn't_ tracked him down.

Sure, he had told her to stay away, but he didn't expect she was actually _going_ _to_. Maybe it was a petty fight, maybe it wasn't, but this was _Blair Waldorf_ and the only reason she ever listened to _anybody_ was if she was forced to.

Chuck paced his bedroom, dragging his hand through the thick tufts of brown hair atop of his head. He couldn't help but feeling how empty the space was without her in it. Whenever she did not really have to be at school, she was there, beside him…or astride him, give or take. And it had been so long since he had _felt_ her, even if it _had_ only been 3 ½ days. The exact hours and minutes he wasn't sure of, but he knew if he really sat down and thought about it, he could come up with the precise numerical digits.

_With an assistant at hand, naturally._

He sighed, falling down to the far side of his bed and slumping over into a dejected, miserable position. He was _still_ _really_ mad at her. But he saw the issue clearer now, and he knew that her initial intentions post-fight had been the right ones.

_They should have stayed and talked it out .It was absolute __**hell**__ being this long without her._

"She would be jealous if the assistant was tall….slender…blonde…"he contemplated, pursing his lips. He smirked at the thought, but then his smile faded. _If they weren't fighting, he would have actual cause for thinking these things._

_She would have no reason to be jealous, obviously, but…_

There was a soft knock at the door, and he _knew_ it was her. He sighed in relief, knowing he couldn't look so grateful once he opened the door. He had told her he needed time, space, _without her_, but that didn't mean she could hold out _forever_. He beamed.

_Thank god._

"Blair," he stated neutrally. Her head was ducked down and her eyes glued to the floor. She gulped, and it made him very uneasy. He cleared his throat, and she looked up at him. She appeared to be trying to breathe evenly, and yet appear completely normal.

_Who was he to state the obvious?_

"Chuck," she smiled wide, and it caught him off guard. His eyes narrowed. "So nice of you to invite me in," she pushed past him and sat facing him on the couch. "It's been awhile."

He coughed lightly and started walking towards her in her seated position. "Yes, it has." He took a seat across from her. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

She blinked, and it honestly confused him. It wasn't the vulnerable type blink that had been ferociously thrown in his face during their fight a few days earlier. No, this was _cocky_, _proud_, and _egotistical_. This had _Chuck Bass_ written all over it.

"Blair—" he warned, but she seemed to be ignorant of his warning, and instead stood and walked around the room, _pretending_ to admire all the beautiful artwork and decorative furniture. He had had just about enough when she started commenting on every little thing, especially since she had known where he had acquired every piece. Even the pieces given to him by worthless sluts she burned holes into. "Blair—" he warned her again, but she just moved to cross the room on spotting some more artwork.

He sighed. "Blair, cut the _crap_. Why are you here?"

She froze, and gulped, and he almost regretted the tone he had used. Sure he had been, and still was, furious with her for where her mind had been and the way she had acted, but didn't want to hurt her more. He _loved_ her. He just needed her to understand the situation.

Blair turned around slowly and offered a small smile. "I want to _fix_ things."

"How so?" he looked at her cautiously, standing his ground. He had offered an opening for discussion. If anyone was moving forward in this whole…_thing_…it was going to be her.

"I didn't mean for it to get so messed up," she took a hesitant step towards him. His eyebrows narrowed.

"Well, what did you expect?" his anger was rising, but it didn't seem he could do much to avoid it. _She still didn't get it._ "That I would be _okay_ with kissing a guy?!"

She sighed harshly, glancing down at the floor. Now she was just plain annoyed. _Hadn't they been here before? _"I said, I was sorry—" she ground her teeth against each other.

"Oh really? When was that? I must've missed it." He crossed his arms across his chest and stared her down. Her eyes squinted.

"Fine," she said slowly, for dramatic effect. "I didn't exactly say it. But I am!"

He shook his head at her, his prior thoughts of 'missing her' extinguished from his mind. As far as he was concerned, she wasn't sorry and he didn't want anything to do with her until she was.

"This isn't just about me kissing a guy, though apparently you think so. Perhaps I was wrong to assume you think of anything beyond a superficial level."

She gaped.

"_Popularity? Really?_ I thought you were _past_ high school drama."

Her lips pursed against each other angrily. "You were the one that helped me get back into it!"

"You were crying like a baby and associating yourself with high school freshmen! What was I supposed to do?"

Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "And yet, here you are, fighting with me endlessly about having to kiss a guy," she scoffed.

He took a step towards her and lowered his voice. "I told you, this isn't just about that."

She rolled her eyes. "Well then what is this about, Chuck?" Her furious demeanor must have made her forget, but it did not lessen his anger in the least.

"Was it that insignificant?"

She was taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

He scoffed and took a few more steps towards her. "_Trust_, Blair. It's about _trust_."

She gulped, suddenly recalling every aspect of their fight some nights before. Her eyes were glued to him now, and beginning to water. He was caught up in trying to make her understand, though. He didn't really see what it was doing to her and how badly she was trying to comprehend the reality of everything he was saying. What lie beneath.

He scoffed at her lack of a response and was immediately brought back to how silent she had been when the topic was originally brought up.

"Do you know what trust _is_, Blair?"

She shook her head at his stupid accusation. "Are you _really_ one to ask that, Chuck? You who basically trusted _no one_ while growing up?"

"Because you trusted _so_ many people," he quipped sarcastically.

She gaped and shook her head. "You know, I can't believe I took Serena's lame advice and thought you'd actually be reasonable after a few days' break," she spat.

He rolled his eyes. "If you haven't already learned that not _everything_ Serena says is intelligent, then you have more to learn than I thought. Half of what she's said has been while drunk anyways."

Blair's eyes narrowed. "I've clearly wasted my time in coming over."

He scoffed. "_Basically_. If this is your idea of _fixing things_, I fear for people you try to _make problems for_."

She sucked in a huge gasp. This wasn't at all what she had expected in coming over. And she was _not_ waiting until the waterworks came pouring from her eyes in order to leave.

He turned away from her, furious how this had somehow risen to the occasion of anger and distraught behavior. Plus, he couldn't bear to see her cry again. And he knew she was close.

"So, is this it then?" she asked, her voice having become suddenly so small, and it took his breath away. At least before_,_ they were arguing, they were fighting. She wasn't silent or vulnerable, or at least not as much as she had been the other day. This was safer, because both of them were at least standing on _one_ foot…instead of falling dreadfully hard and without _anything_ to grab onto.

Now that's exactly where she was headed, and he hated that it had happened so soon.

He turned back towards her and knew instantly she had interpreted the movement as a nod by teary streak running down her left cheek. The almost inaudible sniffle also set off warning bells in his mind. He was losing her again. He couldn't keep losing her…

She nodded then, softly, and went for the purse she had dropped and entering. "Very well, then." She turned for the door, when she heard his thundering footsteps behind her. He pinned her to the wall directly behind them and just stared.

"How could you think that?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "After everything that we've been through you honestly think I would give you up so easily? Over such a small thing?"

He was breathless, and she wanted to mock him or poke fun or joke, at the very least. But everything was so fragile, and once again she didn't know what to do…or where to go…or how to say what needed to be said.

She just breathed.

"Chu—"

He backed off and turned away, and scoffed. "Now I _know_ you don't trust me." He faced her again, trying hard not to take in her teary eyes and defensive stance. "You don't confide in me, you don't trust me…"

She shook her head in denial, her tears flooding down her face, but she couldn't speak.

"…and you need to leave."

She sighed painfully, as her eyes flashed back to his. He was staring her down and she knew he would do so until she left. So, she fastened her purse tighter against her shoulder and turned for the door. She said nothing more—only erupted into sobs as he slammed and locked the door behind her.

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_"Serena," _she cried, sobbed, sniffled into the phone_. "Everything's gotten so bad! I don't think it could ever get worse. I swear he doesn't love me anymore, I swear he doesn't. He doesn't even want to be dating me anymore! I mean…I know you'll say I don't have any proof for that, but it's so true. I can feel it! I waited a few days, just like you said, and we just got in this big fight all over again," _she sighed sorrowfully_. "I don't know what to do, S! I don't know what to do. I can't fix it, I can't. I can't live without him, S, I-I—"_

The blonde cleared her throat, hitting the end button on her cell phone.

"That's just one of TWENTY-SEVEN messages I've gotten from her in the last HOUR."

Chuck's eyes flashed to hers. "And your point is?" he asked, gesturing his hand aimlessly.

She scoffed. "My point is, you have to make up with her!" she threw the phone at his chest.

"Hey!"

She rolled her eyes. "Listen to the other twenty-six, if this one didn't convince you. I can assure you she isn't doing this to get on your nerves."

He sighed. "I know that."

"Are you doing this to get on _hers_?" she raised her eyebrows, hardly taking notice of his glaring eyes.

"Please. There are better ways I could get on Blair's nerves than all this constant fighting," he sighed, and suddenly she felt for him.

"Then what?"

He shook his head. "She doesn't trust me—"

"And you think by fighting she's suddenly going to?!" she shrieked.

"Calm down, Sis. It's not like this is going to go on forever."

She looked at him doubtfully.

"It's not. No fight lasts forever."

"And you know _why_ that is?" she crossed her arms against her chest.

"Enlighten me."

"Because either one or both of the included parties _fix_ the situation, or at least try to." She muttered.

"Well, apparently Blair tried and it didn't exactly—"

"Guess that just leaves you then, doesn't it?" she glared, standing from the couch and moving to refill her wine glass in the kitchen.

Chuck's eyebrows furrowed, and instantly he thought of a million ways to defend himself. Blair had used him. She hadn't really told him any truthful statement that night. And so far any particular means she had used for 'fixing the situation' had done nothing but cause more drama.

He sighed.

_But he __**missed**__ her, and he __**loved**__ her, and…Serena was right_. _The only one keeping them apart was him, and therefore the only one who could put them back together was him._ He stood to his feet and walked to the elevator, briskly walking inside once the doors parted open.

Serena smirked.

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The light glowed from her room and he found it odd that she would have her lamps lit so early in the day, but he let the matter slip in his mind. He didn't come over to analyze her use of electricity.

He cleared his throat and walked inside.

"Dorota told me you'd be in here," he offered.

She gasped at his sudden presence and then vehemently inaudibly cursed something regarding her maid towards the face of her blankets.

"Blair?" he took a step towards her form on the bed, and he didn't blame her for leaning as close to the wall as she could. He had been dangerously angry the last couple times she saw him, and he was far too calm to be offering a genuine conversation. She probably thought it was only a matter of time before he exploded again.

After all, she had only exploded this _last time_, because _he_ had exploded _first_.

"Chuck," she looked down at her hands, who were now fidgeting, "look, if this is what happened earlier or what happened a few days ago—"

"No," he said, sitting before her on the bed. He wrapped his hands around her cold fingertips and instantly wished to warm her. She recoiled a bit and hesitantly met her gaze with his own.

"What then?" she asked, voice quieted to a whisper.

"I'm not going to break up with you," he said, cupping her chin in the palm of his hand. A small smile escaped her, but she was confused by his statement. Confused that he wasn't angry when he spoke.

She gulped. "Then…?"

He sighed, looking away momentarily. "The reason all of this is such a big deal to me is because there should be a lot of trust between us. I trust you more than I trust anybody. I need you more than I need anybody. And if you don't feel the same way—"

"Shh," she said, instantly covering his mouth with her flat-faced palm. "Don't think like that."

He pulled her hand away from his face. "You made me think like that."

Her brows furrowed, and she tried her very best not to take offense. Everything was going so well, so calm, so humane. She didn't want to ruin it.

"I didn't mean to," she offered.

He nodded. "I know."

"I shouldn't have done what I did."

He looked up at her.

"I should've consulted you. We could have definitely concocted something way better than I came up with." She chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.

His eyes twinkled at her, and for the first time in the last four days, he allowed himself to be playful with her. "Now, now, don't shun your ideas. If it had been anyone else, I'd be giving you a standing ovation."

She smirked softly, but then blinked away the brief happy moment. "Chuck—" she sighed. "I don't want to fight with you."

"I don't either."

Her eyes searched his desperately. She still didn't know where to go from here, how to fix this so they would be okay again.

"I just need to know that you trust me, Blair. I can't see us growing in any way unless you do."

She gasped, scared of what the _end of them_ would mean. Her head fell and a tiny tear made its way down her face. His whole world fell apart when he saw that, and he grabbed hold of her upper arms.

"Hey, I'm not breaking up with you," he insisted, and she sniffled, nodding.

"I know," she said, trying to contain her emotions. "It's just—" she looked back up at him, "—just thinking about it…breaks me." She gulped, and he kissed her suddenly. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into her, breaking the kiss soon enough and sobbing into the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she cried. "I _do_ trust you, I do," she insisted. "It was a stupid, stupid mistake and I'll never do it again, I—"

"Hey," he silenced her, putting a finger to her lips. "That all I need," he placed a tender peck on her bare shoulder.

She blinked at him, in doubt that it could really be that easy.

"What?" she asked, confused.

He chuckled quietly. "That's all I need," he kissed her. "I just need you to try for me."

She gave him a small smile. "Chuck, I—I shouldn't have used you. We are so much better together than apart." Passion built in her every word.

"Hey," he wiped the tears from her face. "I said it was all I needed. Just a little more trust, that's all. It's not that you don't trust me now, it's just you don't trust me _completely_, with _everything_. And I _need_ that."

"But you're not ever going to be sure, are you?"

He backed away slightly, his eyebrows furrowing.

"You're always going to be wondering if you can trust me, because you won't know for sure if I _really_ trust you, because you will never have tested me enough? Have really known the depths of—"

He kissed her, leaning his forehead against hers when they parted. "I know you better than I know anyone—"

"But you didn't know this time—"

"There are always exceptions, Waldorf, but if you're willing to try for me, then I think I can _at least _give you the benefit of the doubt and hand you a second chance."

Blair smiled, and lunged forward the small distance between them, kissing him on instant. "I love you so much," she sighed, nuzzling her face into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, and peppered her face with kisses.

"I love you too."

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A/N: Okay, so I don't know if this is as brilliant as I meant it to be, or if y'all like it as much as you thought you would, but I hope it was still awesome for you, because…IT IS FINISHED! lol *sigh* I hope that the writers don't kill us this Monday and the next. *gulp* I plan on writing a ton more this weekend though, with _other_ stories! Make sure to R & R!! ;p


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